Who Needs Tomorrow
by ohmygoodnessidkmaybe
Summary: Quinn and Santana sexytimes during "I Do."


It didn't feel real when she pulled Santana into the hotel room.

It didn't feel real when she made the decision to have sex with her best friend.

It didn't even feel real when they kissed for the first time or when Santana's tongue entered her mouth.

It didn't feel real when Santana stepped into her body and slipped her hands around her back to unzip her dress and tug it down.

It all felt like a dream.

It wasn't until she was on her back with Santana crawling over her and their bare bellies touched that it felt real.

Santana's bare stomach pressing into her ribs is what made that first rush of wetness flood between her legs. Surreal that someone's stomach would arouse her that much. But once Quinn felt that weight pressing down on her, she needed to feel more. It scared her. It exhilarated her. She never once needed or wanted sex this much.

Santana stretched out on top of her, flattening her body over Quinn's. Now their bellies and breasts rubbed together, and Quinn had never felt anything so soft and pliable and feminine touch her. She arched in a small whimper and broke their kiss just to look, just to see for herself her body touching another woman's in this way.

"You okay?" Santana asked.

"I just. . ." Quinn dragged her hand up Santana's back around her ribs until she slipped it between their breasts. The other girl's stomach pressed into hers in a sharp breath. When she squeezed, she felt her knuckles against her own nipple and surged forward again, opening her mouth over Santana's.

She wanted this.

Quinn was having sex because she wanted it, and it felt…good. Really good.

She wondered just how good it might feel if she opened her legs a little more. Santana's hips settled between her thighs and suddenly they were pressed together intimately. Breasts and bellies sliding together, sweat mixing, and now this new sensation, this warm sticky friction between her legs so different from her fingers. Quinn fumbled her way down Santana's body to grip her ass and pull her tighter as she rocked her hips.

Santana just seemed to fit between her legs.

"You know," Santana said, her voice gravelly. "I could use my-"

"No. I want your. . .I want you against me." She pushed into her hard. "Like this."

"Then let me just. . ."

Quinn wanted to protest the distance between their bodies, but when Santana pushed up on her hands and started moving, Quinn's head fell back at the rush of new sensations and sounds. It should've felt dirty or obscene or wrong, but every time Santana pushed her hips into Quinn, she felt a euphoric rush through her body that tingled every nerve on her hot skin. She was already so close.

"For a first timer, you're really - fuck - good at this." Santana dropped to her elbows, bringing their stomachs together again. She stopped thrusting and rubbed herself against Quinn. They kissed again, sloppy and misdirected, mouths moving over chins, teeth biting jaws, tongues slipping in and out. The most delicious noises escaped Santana's open mouth, and Quinn tried swallowing them into her own throat. Other sounds mixed together-sharp breaths from Quinn's own nose, the swish of Santana's hair tickling her ear, but when Quinn heard it, the sound of their mingled wetness, it was enough.

"I think I'm. . ." Quinn squeezed her eyes shut at the fire coursing through her abdomen. She fought it as long as she could, rocking her hips to meet Santana's movements, but when Quinn heard Santana's muffled "fuck" and the girl's body crushed down on top of hers again, their breasts, bellies, and hips pressed together once more, Quinn came, cursing into Santana's neck.

"Q," Santana breathed, lifting slightly from Quinn's body.

"Yeah?"

Santana reclined on her side, watching Quinn with dark eyes and still flushed cheeks. "I gotta ask."

Quinn raised up on her elbows, biting her lip, waiting for Santana's question.

"Was that the wine or something else?"

Quinn smirked. "Something else." She flopped backwards onto a pillow, her mind replaying the night. Something unreal.


End file.
